


My dearest John.

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is Lafayette's guest., An Ocean Away, Fun, Its 1946 folks, John is in the military, Letters, M/M, Writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-08 20:38:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8860183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: John really didn't want to be at this ball. In fact, he didn't want to be in this damned country at all. If he was defending America, what the hell was he doing in France?Really, all he had to do was smile and say he worked under general Washington. Yeah. Easy.He never expected a letter from a certain someone who just happened to live an ocean away.





	1. Faux Nom ball

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of a doozy. So, basically my friend told me the story of how her grandparents met and I was like "That sounds like a fanfic" and she was like "Yeah" and now here I am writing it. 
> 
> ENJOY
> 
> (Takes place in 1946)

John sighed and straightend his bow tie. He almost didn't recognize himself in the mirror. 

His suit broadend his chest in a way that only Hercules could do naturally. The light reflecting off the material shown quite obviously and John hated it. Made him feel to posh, too fancy.

He had been dreading the Faux Nom ball for months. Not only did he have to travel out of the U.S for it, but some of France's most influential people were there. He couldn't afford a slip up. 

There was a knock on the door. John quickly opened it. It was Washington, dressed in a suit made by only the best. 

"Hurry up. We have to leave in ten minutes."

John nodded, turning back to the mirror. 

"Don't be nervous son. I'll be doing most of the talking. All you have to do is smile."

"Yes sir." John turned to face them. "I'm ready to leave, sir."

"Perfect. We can leave now then. Come on."  Washington turned away and walked out.

John got up too and let go of one more sigh. 

Really? 

How hard could it be?

 

 

 

To say Alexander Hamilton was nervous was an understatement.

He had been invited to be a guest at the Faux Nom ball. 

Well, not directly. Marquis de Lafayette, who had worked with Washington in foreign affairs, and his closet friend, had invited him as his plus one. 

Currently, he was standing in Lafayette's ridiculously expensive living room, getting his equally expensive tuxedo checked for any problems.

"Mon ami, don't be nervous. You'll be with me the whole time."

"I'm not nervous." Alex said. 

Lafayette scoffed. "I can see you shaking."

Alex laughed. "Maybe a little bit."

"Mon ami, listen. I may or may not have talked to some people about your essays and they may or may not want to meet you in person." Lafayette had a sly grin that resembled that of a cat. 

"Wait, what?!?" Alex's jaw dropped. "Oh God...Laf, I really don't know what to say! Thank you. I won't let you down!"

"Don't throw away your shot. Now come on before we're late!"

Alex rushed down to where Laf was standing. 

"Our, how you say, driver should ne here any minute."

The door bell rang.

"Speak of the devil! Come on, Alex."

Alex took one more glance at his tuxedo before rushing after, his French friend.

 

 

 

It was everything Alex could have dreamed of and more.

The golden ceilings and floors shimmred against the chandelier, almost like a bright spring forest in a calm lake.

Everyone was talking and dancing, each dressed so elegantly, Alex wouldn't even dream of talking to them under normal circumstances. 

He huddled closer to Laf, afraid he might get lost in all the commotion. Laf patted his back. "Come on, let's find our table and go mingle."

They pushed their way through the sea of people before finding, their table, the number 19 fancily scripted on a card.

 Alex's eyes couldn't help but wonder onto a broadchested man with a sort of creamy, caramel skin tone. He was talking to a smaller, bored-looking man. 

He shook Laf's sleeve. "Hey, who's that?"

"Good job, petit lion! I needed to speak to him." Laf dragged Alex over to them. 

Laf bowed, so Alex did the same.

"General Washington! It is honor to be in your presence." Lafayette stood up, Alex mimicking him. 

"No need for you to be so formal with me son." Washington shook Laf's hand. He turned to the boy on his right. "This is colonel John Laurens. He is one of the finest men I've ever had the pleasure of working with." 

Lafayette shook John's hand before looking at his own companion. 

"This is Alexander Hamilton, my best friend and plus one, and one of the best writers you will ever find."

Alex smiled, shaking the general's hand with genuine enthusiasm.

"I'm at your service sir!"

Alex felt as if eyes were lingering on him. He brushed it off, thinking it was nerves.

Lafayette chuckled. "Well, general, it was absolutely wonderful getting to talk to you in person. I am afraid Mr. Gaulle is around here somewhere and I have not greeted him yet." he bowed. 

Washington smiled. "Have a good rest of the night."

Alex and Lafayette made their way back to the table. For some reason, Alex's eyes seemed to linger on Colonel John Laurens.

His freckles were dotted all over his face and danced on a skin that seemed to be dipped in caramel.

His face was so  _bored_ , but you could not help but love it no matter what position it was in and Alex couldn't find any words.

"Alexander?" 

Laf snapped him back 

"Are you alright, mon ami?"

"What? Oh, I'm fine."

"Good. This journalist I know is looking for an assistant..."

Alex tuned him out, instead just letting Laf lead him to wherever.

 

 

 

The ball was  _exhausting._ Alex did enjoy it, and he got some pretty amazing opportunities, including interviews with France's finest authors.

But it was draining. By the time he was back at Lafayette's, he was about 99% sure that he was going to keel over right there. 

Lafayette groaned. "Alexander, I'm going to bed. Feel free to help yourself to the sofa."

He watched as the tired Frenchman trudged down the hallway and it off sight. 

Alex's thoughts drifted back to the colonel. He was insanely adorable. Too much for words.

The young man fought to stay awake on the velvet couch. He failed as he fell into a deep slumber.

A certain man filled his dreams. 

He awoke to the sound of Laf singing softly.

Alex put on a lazy smile as he sat up. 

"Good morning."

Laf returned the smile. "Good morning, petit lion."

A comfortable silence filled the room. 

"Hey, Laf?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you know anything about the colonel we met yesterday," he paused, thinking for a moment. "Colonel John Laurens."

Laf shrugged. "It's the general I know. I don't know anything about his subordinates." He cocked his head. "Why?"

Alex shrugged. "No reason."

A sly grin grew on Lafayette's face. "You think he's cute, don't you?"

Alex blushed. "No..."

Lafayette squealed. "You must write a letter!"

Alex sighed. "I can't. He's probably not gay, and I mean, what if he frowns upon the gays?"

"Oh, and he's going to harass you via letter. Come on!  Do it!"

"Well...Fine."

Laf squealed again. 

"Do not disturb me. It must be perfect." Alex said firmly. 

Laf snorted. "Alright, then."

Alexander sat in the study staring at the blank page. 

It was a lot easier in words but now that he was actually going to do it, it was the most terrifying thing in the world. 

He banged his head against the table. What would he say?

He couldn't just be like ' _Hello, I saw you at the Faux Nom ball and thought you were cute.'_

He sighed and connected the pen to the page. He prayed to anything and everything that John would respond positively. Or he would respond at all. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After fourteen days at sea, John Laurens could finally just  _breathe._

It felt odd, not having the ground tilt with every movement. He didn't have to worry about falling with every step. 

But what felt the best was being on the old American soil he loved again. 

Sure, America was kinda shit, considering how it treated the gay and any race other the White. But there was just something there he could never get enough of. 

He walked through the camp, recieving many pats on the backs and welcome backs. 

He arrived at his soldiers quarters, bag tugging at his shoulder. 

He opened the all-too-familiar door. It was no surprise when John was engulfed in a bear hug from his best friend and bunk mate, Hercules Mulligan.

Hercules laughed and rustled John, releasing him from the tight hug. 

"There's my favorite revolutionary. How was France." He asked. 

"It was nice, but could never compare to America."

Herc let out his laugh that every soldier knew well. "I'm sure."

There was a knock on their door.

"Enter." John said casually.

A small boy entered clutching his messanger bag. 

"Colonel Laurens?"

"That would be me."

"A letter." He fished into his bag, pulling out an envelope with his name and the base address on the front. 

"Thank you."

The boy scurried out as John examined the letter. The first thing he noticed was that it was hand-written. When everything now was written by a type-writer, it wasn't very common to see anything hand-written.

"Who's it from." Hercules asked curiously.

"Dunno." He placed it on his bed. "I'll read it later."

Herc nodded. "Alright. Hey, everyone's going out for drinks tonight. You should come."

John shrugged. "I'm not really in the mood for drinking."

"Come on! It'll be fun."

"Eh..."

"Please?"

"Fine. But I'm not drinking."

"That's the spirit. Come on!" Hercules dragged him out the room slamming the door.

It had to be 9'oclock by the time they returned.

Hercules was totally hammered. He swayed, John keeping him steady, before he collapsed on his bed. 

A groan came from the man. 

"Easy there buddy." John coaxed. True to his word, John hadn't drunk a single drop. 

Another groan. 

"Sleep, alright? Can you do that for me?"

There was no response. John sighed, taking off his coat and placing it on his desk. 

He himself was about to sleep before he remembered the peculiar letter. 

He might as well open it now while there's some quiet. 

He picked up the envelope and tore through the seal. 

 

_Dear Colonel John Laurens_

_It would be most reasonable to assume you do not remember me. We had a very brief meeting at the Faux Nom ball. After receiving much encouragement from a friend, I have decided to release information not meant for the public onto you. The truth of the matter, dear Laurens, is that I wish to tell you that you have an alluring, captivating beauty I cannot define. It is so unique, to the point where it is magnetic. Words simply cannot do it justice.This must be awfully strange coming from a man. I understand if you are utterly repulsed by the mere thought of someone of the same gender being attracted to you. I do not blame you, seeing the time we are in. If you wish, you may throw away this letter away and forgot I ever had the nerve to talk to you. I believe that may be  your best interest. I do not expect a response. However, I could not keep this burrowed in the deep depths of my heart for it to lie and burn like a flame until it dies. Best wishes from France._

_Sincerely_

_Alexander Hamilton, August 25th, 1946._

John's mouth was agape as he read and reread the letter.

He felt his heart speed up as he frantically searched for a pen and paper. He didn't care if he had to use his own blood, he was going to respond.

A blush found a way on his cheeks. No one knew about his predicament. Not even Hercules.

John couldn't help but find the words beautiful ,even if they were about him. He found this mysterious man attractive, even if he didn't know what he looked like. 

Finally, he found a pen and a page. He slammed them on his desk, scratching away at the paper. 

He found himself trying to rival the strangers words, trying to recreate such a beauty. 

He took one deep breath as he signed the bottom. He placed it an envelope, scratching  _Alexander Hamilton_ followed by the return address on the envelope. 

He sealed it, before placing it on his desk. He decided he was going to mail it in the morning. 

He picked up Alexander's letter, clutching it tightly to his chest, his face becoming red.

He fell onto his bed, snuggling into the blankets, letter on his chest. 

He went to bed that night with a warm feeling in his stomach.

 

 


	2. Dear Mr. Hamilton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex gets a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO YO YO  
> How is everyone.  
> I'm pretty excited for this mini series. I hope you all are too.  
> Note: this series relies heavily on the character's letters to one another. I have also gone back and added dates to the letters so you know how much time is passing. Enjoy~
> 
> ALSO NOTE: The date is for the day it was WRITTEN and NOT for the date it was RECIEVED.
> 
> Also: I was featured on the besthamiltonfanfictions page and I feel so accomplished right now like there one of my favorite accounts

Dear _Mr. Hamilton._

 _Thank you for your words, they flatter me like none else. I have no issue with affection from a men. In fact, it seems we are in the same predicament. Though, I cannot recall your appearance, your words have changed me like none else. I appreciate them greatly, and I plan on treasuring it forever. There seem to be no words for my delight when I read your letter. So, to you, I express my affections to you. I cannot recall what you look like, but I already sense_ feelings _growing inside me. My heart aches to meet you._

_Sincerely,_

_John Laurens, August  25th, 1946._

Alex blushed as he read the letter. Currently, he was in Laf's house, while Laf was typing away on a type-writer. 

"Oh my god, Laf!" Alex said rushing to his desk. He slammed the letter down. "Read it." He demanded.

The Frenchman groaned and looked up from the type-writer.

"Okay, okay, no need to get aggressive, mon ami." Laf said, picking up the paper.

His eyes scanned it, his face turning into a smirk. 

"Someone has a  _friend."_ Laf said, dragging out the N. 

"Shut up. I don't even know him that well." Alex said, cheeks with a reddish tint. 

"Yet." Laf said wriggling his eyebrows. Before turning back to his type-writer.

"I want you to write back after I'm done finishing  this document." 

Alex frowned eyeing the document. His eyes shrunk, concerned.

      _To Chairman De Gaulle,_

_I'm sure as you know, war with Vietnam is on the rise. As of September 2nd, I'm sure you already know Emperor Minh has declared independence for Vietnam. Recently I've heard word of France planning to attack Hanoi. As a former soldier myself, and a leader in international affairs, I have to strongly advise against such a rushed tactic. Please, try to reason with them with a compromise. Our great country is in massive debt after this most recent war, and I don't think France can take another hit to our economy until at least the next decade. General Gaulle, please do everything in your power to reach a peaceful agreement. If we face war, I fear France may have another tragedy on their hands._

_May this letter find you well_

_Marquis de Lafayette, September 8th, 1946_

Alex's pupils shrunk. Indeed he had heard on the news and read in the news paper about some trouble in Vietnam, but he didn't think it was so bad as they needed to go to war. 

Lafayette saw his dismay. His face turned into a soft smile as he ruffled his hair. 

"Do not worry about it, mon ami. I promise it will not resort to war. It would be foolish to engage with the Vitamenese. " 

Alex felt a little relieved, but an uncomfortable feeling still loomed inside him. He was always uncomfortable when war was brought up. 

"Anyway," Lafayette turned his letter over and picked  up Alex's. A big grin appeared on his face. 

"You must send a picture. I'll get the camera!" He stood up, heading towards his old closet.

"I don't know Laf. I mean maybe... What if he thinks I'm not attractive? What if he thinks I'm a hideous monster? Oh Laf, I don't kn-"

"If he thinks such a thing, he is blind, it'd be good riddance. And I'd send a French Battalion."

Alex laughed. "Alright, fine." 

Laf squealed. "This is so exciting! Stand against the wall while I get the camera." 

Alex gulped and smoothed down his hair. Lafayette came back with the bulky camera. He pointed it at Alexander.

"Smile!" 

Alex did his best smile and tried to look as charming as possible.

The photo printed out. Laf blew on it as the picture slowly appeared on the thick paper. 

"Perfect! I'll put it on your desk." 

Alex smiled at his friend. "Thanks, Laf!"

He glanced up at the clock, eyes widening in panic.

"Fuck! I'm going to be late for my interview with the Le Monde paper!"

Alex still couldn't believe he had scored an interview with such a prestigious paper. He'd really have to thank Lafayette.

He grabbed his messenger bag and coat.

"Bye Laf!" He shouted as he ran out the door.

"Good luck, you're going to do great!"

He slammed the door, before taking off for the town square where their office was located.

 

 

Hamilton walked out of the office as a junior writer. They had been so impressed with the sample articles he had written them, they had wanted him to start write away. What about, they left to him. 

With coffee in hand, he ran to go start writing. He ran until he reached the Frenchman's house. 

He used his key to open the door. Laf was sitting in the kitchen reading a copy of the very newspaper he had been hired for. 

Upon his arrival, Laf smiled. "How did it go?"

"Guess who just got hired to be a junior writer." Alex said excitedly.

He found himself in a tight hug from his friend. In fact, it was so tight, he swore he felt his rib cage being crushed. 

"That's amazing! Come on! We must celebrate!" Lafayette bounced. "I know this amazing restaurant in the square. Let's go together!"

Alex shook his head. "No can do. My first article is due in two weeks, and if I wanna keep my position, I have to get a head start."

Laf crossed his arms. "Really?"

"Yup. And you can't convince me other wise."

Lafayette sighed. "Whatever you say." 

Alex snickered, before retreating back to his office. He stared blankly at the paper, no idea on where to begin. He needed inspiration. 

"Hey Laf, can I have the newspaper you were reading earlier?" Alex shouted from within the room.

He heard the door open as a newspaper came flying towards him at rapid speed. It ended up hitting him directly in the face. 

"Thanks." Alex said sarcastically, rubbing his cheek. 

"No problem," Laf laughed, his wink almost audible.

Alex scanned the paper, his eyes falling upon a headline in bold ink. 

_Ho Chin Minh declared independence for Vietnam: What it could mean for France._

Alex smiled at the headline. It's why he had applied for Le Monde in the first place. They were an independent paper where writers actually wrote about  _their_ opinions. The paper had no influence from the government or politics. There would be no need for Alex to play it safe. 

He thought for a moment. He decided he would write about France's debt and his views on it.

He positioned his fingers above the keys when his eyes fell upon John's letter and the picture next to it. 

Alex smiled before taking the paper out of the type-writer, placing it on the desk. 

He took out a pen, scratching away at the paper. 

He sighed contently at it before placing it in an envelope with the picture.

He faced the type-writer again, and began writing.

 

 

 

 

John groaned as he sat in the meeting. It was just the weekly update meeting. It was the same old, same old. Procedures and protocols, remember to wash your uniform, it's possible France might go into war with Vietnam-

Wait, what? John stood straight up. 

"It has come to our French allies may have war on their hands. Vietnam had declared their independence and France's next move could determine whether their will be a war on their hands." Washington pursed his lips. "And in event of a war, Congress hasn't decided whether or not troops will be sent to aid France. That is all for now. You are dismissed."

John turned to Hercules, open-mouthed. In return, he got an equally astonished look. 

Everyone silently got up, retreating back to their soldiers quarters. 

John flopped on his bed. "Damn... War, huh?"

Hercules buried his head in his hands. "I don't understand... We just got out of war a year ago! Why the hell are they on the brink of war again?"  

"I don't know, Herc. I really hope this whole thing blows over." His thoughts drifted to a certain someone who had lived in France.

He shot straight up. "Alexander!" he said suddenly.

"What?" Herc said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh," John said, mentally kicking himself. "No one."

"Who's Alexander?" Herc asked sitting up. 

"Uh... Just a friend I know who lives in France." John stuttered. 

"Oh. You should have just said so." He said suspiciously. 

"Didn't think it was important."

Hercules made a hum of acknowledgement. 

John mentally kicked himself. That was too close for comfort. 

There was a knock on their door. 

"Come in." Hercules said. 

It was the same messenger from before. "A letter for John Laurens."

John took the letter. "Thank you.

The boy nodded, running out. 

"Who's it from?" Herc asked.

"Speak of the devil. Alexander." He said. 

He radiated with excitement as he opened it. 

_My dearest, John,_

_Your response elates like no other. If it is alright with you, it would please me like no other to continue corresponding like this. You know, keep each other posted on our lives and such. Although, we may never see each other again, I may take comfort in knowing we still correspond by letter. I will begin. Today, I have been appointed a junior writer of the Le Monde paper in France. The papers popularity has spiked ever since Vietnam declared independence. As military, I'm sure you've heard of it, yes? It doesn't really matter much to me, I'm more concerned with getting paid to what I love most. I absolutely love to write. I've been doing it since I was a young child. I would find great pleasure in learning about your childhood, so do tell. Also, in the envelope, you will find a photo of myself, since you mentioned not remembering what I looked like._

_With love_

_Alexander Hamilton, September 8th, 1946._

John's heart panged at the "With love."

He quickly scrambled to check the envelope for the photo. It landed in his hands. 

John's heart wrenched. 

Alexander was  _gorgeous._ His hair was down, barely skimming his shoulders. He had on a green vest that loosely hung on his small body. His smile looked flustered and embarrassed, but was so damn _adorable._ And his  _eyes._ Oh god, his eyes. They were rings of deep chocolate, that could engulf John with a single stare, and John didn't think he would mind. 

"What's it say?" Herc asked, yawning.

"Uh... Nothing important, just asking me how I am, how I've been, you know." 

"Cool." Herc said, stretching.

John walked over to his desk taking out a paper and pen. A light blush tinted his cheeks as he wrote. John knew he shouldn't say he loved Alexander, but there was certainly something in his heart for the man., and he couldn't ignore the way his heart jumped when ever he saw Alex's letters. Not to mention the fact he was just beautiful.

"We should get to dinner before GWash yells at us." Hercules said breaking his train of thought. 

"Yeah," John said, sealing the envelope. 

"That was fast." Herc commented. "You and Alex close?"

John smiled widely. "Yeah. We are." Though it wasn't exactly true, it wasn't exactly a lie. John has trusted Alex with information even Hercules or his closet family knows. 

"Well, you ready then?" Herc asked. 

"As I'll ever be."

Together, the to made their way to the mess hall, the only thing on John's mind was a particular boy who lived an ocean away. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ey~
> 
> Please don't hesitate to leave a kudo or drop a comment. It's why I get up in the morning.
> 
> ANYWHO ONTO FACTS ABOUT THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR: actually a lot of Americans don't even know this war exists so I'll put down the basics and things covered in this fic. 
> 
>  
> 
> -It all really began when Ho Chi Minh declared Vietnam's Independence on September the 2nd, 1946. At the time it was French territory. The war didn't officially begin until later on.
> 
> \- Charles de Gaulle is a real person. During the war he was the chairman of France's provisional government. What he did for the war will come into play later.
> 
> -The Le Monde paper is a real France paper which still exists today. It is a highly respected and highly acclaimed paper that is still around today. In English, it translates to "The World." It has no government or political influence so the writers are free to write their opinions on controversial topics and issues. 
> 
> \- a bunch of other facts that will come into play later
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and have a wonderful day.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it feels rushed. I'm just really excited to get to the fluff. I may be the angst queen, but that don't mean I don't write fluff. 
> 
> Please don't hesitate to leave kudos or comments it's why I get up in the morning.
> 
> Edit: Why can I never stick to fluff it always gotta be angst. Like literally my plan for this story has turned straight angst.


End file.
